The background sound now ignored.
07.22.17 – In-crowded
I had difficulty with her expressions. I’d stare at them to catch a glimpse of movement I knew but the whole thing would seem a bit off. I was trying to read lips from someone who didn’t speak the same language, the shapes seemed so familiar and still we were destined to end up without comprehension. Maybe I liked the puzzle of it; questioning all the adjustments and tics but never once asking if we needed to find an agreement there. I was just going to let myself chance it and guess wildly through every interaction.
Mine were too accessible. I wasn’t an open book, it was more like a book being read aloud through a megaphone at anyone who waltzed by. She told me it made me a bad liar, a great character, and a troubled fool. I always wondered if she could catch the shame I felt when I heard it, if the smile was too forced or the laugh lacking the right pitch to play it off. It didn’t wound me, but I couldn’t help but think I was missing a piece that might keep me quiet when needed. There was no tactful dismissal of feelings when their entry was announced, expected or not.
I thought maybe it made us a pair, one of us too stoic and the other with a histrionic streak. It’d didn’t mete out; she wasn’t unreadable, I was just illiterate. Somewhere along the way I could see hints of translation happening by bystanders and I’d hang oblivious and winking at the wrong detail. It felt like misdirection from my head to keep my heart in a hard stasis. I wouldn’t commit to the proper course if I couldn’t discern even the path to take ahead. She kept her grace in spades, smiled a little and told me we’d be okay. She was always a better liar than I.